


Trust

by bluerose5



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Can't believe that's a tag, Dom connor, Dom/sub, M/M, Mental bondage, One Shot, Porn with Feelings, Power Bottom Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Pretty Sure this Counts as Edge Play, Punishment, Spanking, Thirium Play, Thirium Pump Play (Detroit: Become Human), slight sub drop, sub Markus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-05 00:54:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16357496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluerose5/pseuds/bluerose5
Summary: When Markus starts to neglect taking care of himself, it's only expected when Connor steps in.





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

> So I haven't written D/s dynamics in a while and definitely not for this fandom... I apologize beforehand if anything seems wrong. Please don't be afraid to tell me if I need to add something in the tags, though, given the content.
> 
> Also, Markus and Connor are in a mutually beneficial relationship. They are switches (in both senses, mind you), and who knows? I might write some more one shots for this, might not. *shrugs*
> 
> But I hope you enjoy!

Markus knows as soon as he enters their apartment that he's in trouble.

Honestly, he tries to sneak past before Connor can detect him, but that's sort of hard to do when not only is their apartment a more open layout but his partner is also an android designed with some of the most state-of-the-art detective abilities.

In other words, the bastard is observant as fuck, so of course he doesn't even need to look up from the file he's working on when he greets Markus, calm and casual.

"Late again?" he calls out from the kitchen table. With one foot halfway into their bedroom, Markus winces at the steely quality to his tone, nothing else about Connor's form or posture suggesting that anything is out of the ordinary.

"I-uh..." Markus returns to the living room and rubs at the back of his neck.

Connor still ignores him, but Markus can already feel his shoulders folding in defensively, disappointment in himself burning bitter on the back of his tongue. He shuffles towards Connor's side, feeling him synch more fully with Markus' systems.

At this point in their relationship, it's basically expected, even more so with this specific dynamic that they've been exploring.

Both of them have their issues when it comes to caring for themselves. Between Connor's non-existent self-preservation and Markus' penchant for self-sacrifice, the two revolutionaries have settled into a mutually beneficial arrangement that satisfies both of their needs while also dragging each other's asses out of the fire when need be.

Depending on the day or the mood, it might be Markus taking control of the situation, pulling Connor free when he gets stuck within the depths of his mind.

They both have their own demons to contend with, and sometimes it's nice to have a helping hand.

So on days like today, it's only understandable when Connor has his reasons to take the reigns. Markus isn't exactly one to submit to just anyone.

Then again, Connor isn't either.

The fact that they found that in each other though... Well, Markus can't express how freeing that is, to be able to shed their respective leadership positions in the revolution, even if for a moment.

Lately, Connor and Markus have finally agreed to give each other access to a constant live feed of their systems' status, adapting their lifestyle to fit their unique set of circumstances beyond the bedroom.

Which is how Markus currently finds himself in this mess.

Who could've guessed that transparency and honesty wouldn't feel like such a good idea when you know it's about to screw you over.

Markus shifts uneasily from one foot to the next, then back again, unable to take the silence much longer.

Yellow light flashes out of the corner of his eye, and Markus watches, entranced, while Connor's LED transitions into a bright gold. It flashes several more times before Markus receives his plans for the night, spread out on display.

A negotiation, only they don't have to spend more than a second or two on it when they communicate like this, having settled into a familiar rhyme and rhythm that is almost routine to them now.

After Markus makes his own additions or suggestions, he sends the feedback back to Connor, who pours over it as Markus slyly wiggles his way between Connor and the table. Connor narrows his eyes at him, but accepts his kiss when Markus lowers himself into his lap.

"Hey there," Markus breathes in greeting, chasing his lips again, only to have Connor turn away. Markus frowns, but presses an apologetic kiss to his cheek regardless. "Sorry I'm late." Another kiss. This time, accompanied by Connor's building disappointment, which settles stubbornly in the back of Markus' mind like a dead weight. "I missed you."

"Did you?" Connor questions, ignoring Markus in favor of his work. Looks like plans for some of his agents movements...

Markus furrows his brow.

Wait, what the hell did _that_ mean?

"Of course I did," Markus says, pulling back to look at Connor, who keeps his eyes trained determinedly on what he's doing. "You know I di—"

Connor interrupts with a skeptical, " _Really_?" He scoffs, pulling away to meet Markus' eyes. "You know, you have a funny way of showing it. Working late, stretching yourself thin, testing the limits of how much work and stress is 'too much' before you break." Markus winces, curling in on himself, but Connor is relentless, slowly enunciating each word. "We had an agreement, did we not?"

Markus wraps his arms around himself, averting his gaze as his voice drops to a muted whisper. "Yes, sir."

"And for the past week, did you hold up your side of it?" Connor questions, leaning his chin in his hand as he eyes his partner.

Markus grits his teeth, but owns up to his mistake, shaking his head.

"No, sir."

"Hmm..." Connor tsks at him, scowling. He deliberately keeps his hands to himself for the most part, even as Markus squirms restlessly in his lap. "At first, I decided to let the matter go. After all—" Connor shrugs, having thought nothing of it. "—I was convinced that you were just as committed to do better as I was, if not more so. I thought we were actually going to do this _together_. Take better care of ourselves for each other."

Feeling shame settle like a rock in his gut,  Markus tries to speak, but he instantly snaps his mouth shut when Connor holds a finger up to silence him.

"Let me finish," he states. "I was so convinced that you were going to fix things as soon as I sensed you faltering, but what did you do?" He doesn't give Markus the chance to answer because they both know exactly what he did. "You kept on going, and going, and going... and I kept convincing myself that you would be okay, that you would take some time to rest and recuperate as soon as possible. Only it was always something else with you, wasn't it? Then I realized that it wasn't on you."

Connor scoffs, running his fingers through messy, curly hair.

Markus has a feeling that he won't like where this is headed.

"No, _this_ —" Connor gestures between the two of them. "—this is on me, this time."

Markus blinks owlishly at him, not quite comprehending at first.

Until it finally clicks.

The guilt and shame that have been lying relatively dormant under Markus' skin fully sparks to life, and he feels himself shrinking more under the weight of Connor's gaze.

"No, you are _not_ responsible for this," Markus says vehemently, but Connor shakes his head, causing panic to seize in Markus' chest. "You didn't fail me."

"On the contrary," Connor counters, blunt and to the point, "I am responsible for this, partially or otherwise." He shrugs nonchalantly. "I should have nipped it in the bud as soon as it started, then you wouldn't be in this bad of a state."

A solid weight presses in on Markus' chest, the walls seeming as if they're closing in from all sides. He might not need air to live, but he can't describe what he's feeling beyond "suffocating." Unfortunately, even Markus' deep, steady breaths can't relieve the pressure building all around him.

Markus tries to alleviate the suddenly heaviness that blankets them.

Tries, but doesn't succeed.

"Hey," he teases meekly, "watch it. That's the android I love you're talking about."

Of course, leave it to Connor to come back with a scathing remark, knowing precisely what buttons to push.

"And that's the android _I_ love you're neglecting to take care of," he snaps.

Okay, fair enough.

"Tell me," Connor continues, "what’s your thirium level right now?"

As if he needs to ask.

When Markus said that they had live access to the other's systems, he wasn't exactly exaggerating.

Still, Markus knows the strategy, has used it himself in the past when he had to punish Connor. He knows what Connor is doing, forcing him to voice his mistakes aloud to increase the humiliation knotting throughout his body.

Even knowing that now, it doesn't make the technique any less effective.

Markus swallows thickly, murmuring the value under his breath.

Connor raises an eyebrow, holding his hand up next to his ear.

"What was that?" he asks. "Couldn't hear you, love. Speak louder for me."

That smug little—

Markus knows from a quick scan that his voice was well within the ranges required for Connor to hear.

He forces down his wounded pride, long enough to repeat himself to Connor's satisfaction.

"Forty six point four percent,” he answers, wilting when he feels the gnarled mess of emotions surging between their connection. Sadness, a bit of anger, and that burning, searing disappointment that brands itself permanently into Markus' mind.

Nine times out of ten, that disappointment hurts worse than whatever punishment comes after it.

Pinching at the bridge of his nose, Connor sighs in response, pursing his lips.

Markus snuggles closer in his lap, doing his best to ignore the cold loneliness that radiates through him when Connor refuses to acknowledge his touch.

Despite what people might think of him, the deviant leader isn't as cold and distant as people probably make him out to be. Out of all everyone, though, Connor was one of the most observant when it came to picking up on certain mannerisms of his.

Such as the fact that Markus thrives on communicating through touch.

Whether it be a hand on the shoulder here or a playful nudge there, he does best when he can express himself freely through physical connection. Connor caught onto that the first time they interacted after the fall of Jericho, how Markus gravitated towards him with worry and concern. How he squeezed Connor's shoulder when he told him to be careful, his eyes brightening when Connor didn't simply shrug him off but instead pressed further into his touch, Markus' hand stroking curiously down to grasp at his elbow.

He knew he had tested his luck back then, even more so after he had given his speech in the aftermath of their victory. The rest of Jericho's leadership might have been hanging off of his words, but even then, it's pretty hard to ignore when the recent deviant-hunter-turned-deviant pulls out a gun in the middle of your speech in a not-so-subtle assassination attempt.

Before any of the others on the stage could do anything, Markus warned them all on their shared comms channel to stand down. None of them really liked it, thinking Markus stupid for putting his life in Connor's hands so easily, even back then, but Connor pulled through, just as Markus hoped.

When Connor found out about that after, he dragged Markus away from the crowd to give him a piece of his mind, only to startle when Markus cupped his face in his hands, patting nearly every surface of his body down as he checked after Connor's well-being. Connor flushed and sputtered in indignation, even though he couldn't deny the part of himself that preened under such devoted attention. Then Markus pulled away in embarrassment, apologizing profusely while Connor tried to ease his mind.

The next time Markus touched him like that, though, Connor's response was noticeably more, ahem, _involved_.

Which is why Markus can barely handle it now, how Connor cuts himself off so cleanly, distancing himself without words.

“Con,” Markus breathes.

Good thing Connor isn't so easily distracted. “And what about your energy levels, Markus?”

Markus slumps against him, bracing himself for the worst. “Fifty three point two.”

Connor tsks at that in disapproval, his voice snapping out, as sharp as whip.

“Remind me again,” Connor says. “Where did we agree to keep those levels?”

As if Markus doesn't already feel like shit about it.

“At least seventy percent,” he says, his face and chest heating up as shame courses through him. His systems report the rapid increase in temperature, but he dismisses the message.

Connor finally touches him, grabbing roughly at his jaw so that he is forced to look him in the face when he speaks.

“Safe word?” Connor asks. Of course he already knows it, but it's best to clarify, so as to orient themselves back in reality.

Markus' response is immediate.

“‘Jericho,’” he murmurs, and Connor smiles softly at him, releasing his jaw abruptly.

Markus works the kinks out of it, shooting out of his seat when Connor orders him to stand.

Connor waves him back, and Markus has to calm his breathing when he takes one step away, then two, then three…

He stops when there are a few feet between them, Connor's hungered gaze burning into him.

“Strip,” he says, leaning back in his chair while he waits.

Markus stutters, but Connor doesn't want excuses, doesn't need them.

Markus screwed up, not just once, but repeatedly throughout the week. If he had let his condition deteriorate anymore…

Well, let's just say that, if Markus was in Connor's position right now, he more than likely wouldn't be so forgiving when it comes to doling out punishment.

With shaky hands, he works his way past his trembling fingers, divesting himself of his clothing, all while Connor silently watches with full-blown pupils. Desire swims in his warm, brown gaze, but Markus knows better to expect any kind of relief anytime soon.

Soon enough, he's stripped bare in the middle of their kitchen, his clothes folded neatly on the island.

Although he knows that Connor loves his body, evident even now with his appreciative gaze caressing him slowly from head to toe, Markus can't help but to wrap his arms around his middle, shuddering beneath his scrutiny.

Markus was designed, like most androids, to be aesthetically pleasing according to humanity's tastes, but that doesn't stop himself from criticizing every single inch of his person.

It doesn't make him any less self-conscious of his… borrowed parts.

How Connor can even stomach his presence, let alone be intimate with him, he'll never understand.

That makes Connor's next instructions all the more difficult to follow.

“Here's what's going to happen,” he states. “You're going to go to the bedroom, and you're going to wait there as so.” He exchanges data through their connection, showing Markus how he wants him positioned. Markus fights through his constricting throat, nodding vigorously in understanding. “Then you're going to wait there alone and think about why I’m punishing you until I finish up this report.”

When Markus remains painfully silent, Connor pulls back on his side of their connection, eliciting a soft whimper from the normally composed deviant leader. Connor picks up on where his thoughts were straying beforehand, and his demeanor softens ever so slightly.

“Are you okay to continue?” Markus doesn't answer immediately, contemplating his state of mind thoroughly in order to answer Connor as honestly as possible. While he's definitely unnerved, he thinks he's good to go.

“I’m okay,” he whispers wearily.

Connor nods. “Let me know if that changes, and we'll end it here, love.” He turns back to his work then, shooing Markus away with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Now go. I’ll be with you when I’m ready.”

A pang of anxiety strikes his heart. He opens his mouth to object, but Connor has already turned back to his own work, his mind on other, more important matters clearly.

Markus winces, ambling towards the bedroom with a labored gait, his breathing rapid and shallow by the time he makes it to the bed.

Not even the smooth, cool sheets can soothe his heated skin. Instead, every touch that isn't Connor's feels like tiny bugs crawling over his skin, an itchy, maddening mess that has him squirming all over again in discomfort.

He climbs to the center of their bed, burying his face into his arms while he presents his bare ass to the empty room. He settles on his knees and breathes shakily through the unbearable silence. Markus can just barely feel Connor's presence in the back of his mind, and his satisfaction with Markus' obedience is enough to give Markus a brief respite before Connor returns to his work.

The position isn't necessarily uncomfortable for him to keep. The seconds ticking by are much more unnerving than that, so Markus finds himself shifting uneasily on more than one occasion before he snaps briskly back into place.

Then Connor withdraws the slightest bit more from their connection, narrowing it down to a pinpoint, and Markus has to bite his bottom lip against the growing silence.

It's maddening, and he knows why Connor is doing it, but that doesn't stop the knots from forming in his chest. Everything is so silent, so lonely, so empty... He can practically hear his thirium pump pounding in his ears, and he squeezes his eyes tightly together before his fingers clench desperately at their sheets.

But Connor leaves him there to ruminate and shift around to his heart's content. Markus keeps on psyching himself out, convincing himself that he's crossed a line that they promised each other not to. How disappointed Connor is with him, so much so that he’s readily cutting himself off, if only to teach him a lesson, one that he won't be so keen on repeating.

Before his mind can spiral out of control too much, Connor strolls into the bedroom and rolls up his sleeves. Markus peaks at him whenever he is within eyeshot, but Connor ignores him until he's ready.

He pulls up an armchair near the bed and beckons Markus forward with a crook of his finger. Markus eagerly stumbles his way out of bed, wanting— no, _needing_ Connor's touch at that point.

Basking in his deviant's touch-starved longing, Connor scoots towards the edge of the chair and spreads Markus' naked frame over his lap, running his fingers along the curve of his ass.

He quietly asks Markus why he's being punished.

Markus simply squirms in Connor's lap and ducks his head, not wanting to say until Connor's hand comes down hard on his ass.

Androids might not be able to feel pain to the extent that humans do, but damn if that striking sensation isn’t enough to send Markus sputtering.

"You're testing my patience," Connor murmurs, stroking gently over the spot he hit. "Why are you being punished?"

Rebelliously, Markus grumbles, then yelps when he strikes the opposite cheek, the spot tingling with a sharp echo of pain.

"Okay, okay!" he huffs. He can sense Connor's incredulity at his tone, so he wilts, feeling the weariness of a long week finally soaking in. He covers his face with his hand in embarrassment, but Connor allows it for now. "'M sorry." When Connor says nothing, waiting patiently, Markus rambles on, his voice lowering to a guilty murmur. "I-I've been working myself too much."

“‘Too much,’ he says,” Connor scoffs. “If I hadn't intervened, how long would it have been before you were running on fumes, Markus?”

Markus grimaces, swallowing thickly.

“I don't know,” he admits weakly.

That only earns him a sharper smack in response. The abrupt sound of Connor's palm striking his ass makes him jolt, a heavy grunt slipping free.

“Then answer me this,” Connor says. “Are we going to be having this conversation again?”

Markus stumbles over his words and rushes to try again when Connor's palm leaves his skin. This time, he makes sure to speak up more clearly.

"No," Markus rasps, his cock giving a sudden, excited twitch, enjoying his embarrassment way too much for his liking. "N-No, sir. We won't be."

Connor gives three taps of his forefinger against Markus' hip, a signal asking to check in, not once discouraging the fog that Markus finds himself gradually sinking into.

Markus responds with three taps of his own. One for stop, two for slow down, and three for all good.

As soon as he gives the go ahead, Connor continues to berate him. "Good, because what would have happened if _I_ would've come home reporting those levels?”

"You would've been punished," Markus answers, bracing for another strike.

Only Connor holds back, patiently kneading a handful of Markus' ass.

"Now, remind me again where those levels should be, since you seem to have such a _hard_ time remembering.”

Markus' shoulders hunch in protectively, and he stares blankly in front of him when he answers.

"At least seventy."

"Uh huh..." Connor skims his fingers appreciatively along his spine, and Markus can't suppress the shudder that runs through him. "And why did we agree to that?"

Connor settles his hand over the nape of his neck, tracing a thumb along his skin while he tightens his grip.

Markus swallows back a moan, gritting his teeth.

"Because we love each other."

"And...?"

"Because you don't like it when I don't take care of myself."

"Just like you don't like when I neglect myself," Connor adds. "We have the rules for a reason, yes?"

"Yes, sir," Markus breathes, biting his wobbling lip.

Lately, it feels like he’s been failing at so many other things in life with the revolution spreading each and every day. Yet no matter how hard he tries, he can't seem to avoid the loss, especially not when he's one of the few androids at the forefront of it all.

This is the one thing that he absolutely could not stand to mess up now.

With that in mind, his eyes burn, and his body quakes. Connor continues to stroke his back, easing back into the connection to provide him a slight twinge of relief.

"And when you break the rules...?"

Markus hangs his head in resignation.

"I get punished,” he repeats.

Markus can understand. He's not only done this once, and Connor's let it slip by. But it's been a whole week of him slowly but surely letting himself spiral out of control.

Because Connor had had faith that Markus would correct the problem soon enough. Take time for himself.

Somehow, that makes Markus feel even worse.

The thought dissipates as soon as Connor returns his hand over Markus' ass, shifting him so that he leans further forward, presenting himself more openly.

Connor takes his time to admire the view, and Markus whimpers.

"Shh..." Connor chides, warming up the area. "Deep breaths, love."

Markus nods frantically in mindless acceptance, evening out his shaky breaths as best as he can.

Such efforts earn him quiet praise, and Markus feels himself relaxing in his hold.

"Count for me," Connor orders.

That's all the warning that Markus receives before Connor's hand rains down hard on his cheek, spanking him with even more intensity and focus than before. Markus trembles, but Connor goes nice and slow, rubbing the soreness away before moving to the other side.

"One," Markus rasps, his hips bucking against Connor's lap. There's a weighted moment of silence, then Markus has to deliberately remind himself through his foggy mind of what else is missing. Feeling his thirium pump skip a beat, he forces the words out through his wounded pride. "Thank you, sir."

His pride might be wounded, yet those words taste sweet on his tongue.

Because this isn't just some random person he's trusting to see him like this, all bare and vulnerable.

It's Connor, and damn if that doesn't make the biggest difference in the world.

A person as broken and lost as he is. Someone who shares in both his victories and failures alike. One of the few people who doesn't look to him for leadership and guidance to make all of the hard decisions associated with their lives, but who took a chance and claimed his place by his side.

Connor's the only person who makes relinquishing control feel so, _so_ good.

And while Markus definitely enjoys taking care of Connor, he gets just as much pleasure out of their relationship when it's Connor taking care of _him_.

It also doesn't hurt that Connor takes control of a situation like a natural.

The next strike snatches Markus free from his tangled thoughts, causing his dick to swell in response, a result of the sweet mixture of embarrassment and pain and pleasure and love...

"T-two," Markus pants, wiggling restlessly while fire rushes through his frame. He thanks Connor again, sincere in his gratitude beyond what mere words can express, but he's already a mess. From only two swats, no less.

When the next blow comes, however, Markus can't even find it in himself to care, whispering Connor's name like a prayer before he continues counting.

Connor starts off slow, and the sound of each blow leaves Markus breathless and squirming. Connor has to stop, remind him to breathe too many times to count, especially when his pace increases, each consecutive blow applying more and more pressure. Sometimes Connor ventures a bit lower and applies a painful swat to Markus' thighs, but he makes sure to focus the brunt of his attack on his ass.

Eventually, Markus starts to lean back into the brutal touch, and Connor stops as quick as he starts, noticing when his reaction to his "punishment" shifts into something more pleasurable.

When he speaks, he's nothing less than amused.

Connor chuckles darkly. "Someone's enjoying this a bit too much, I think."

Markus sloppily shakes his head, and that earns him a sharp pinch to his side. He flinches from the vengeful touch and hisses.

"Just for lying, I think I have another punishment in mind." Markus already dreads it, and his next words do nothing to encourage him. "Go sit on the edge of the bed for me."

Markus drags himself from the fog and eyes the spot uncertainly.

" _Now,_ Markus."

With a whine, he carefully peels himself from Connor's lap and obeys, wincing when the cool air hits the heated skin of his cheeks. Each step towards the bed is just as impactful as the spankings, the growing distance making his mind fill with both frustration and desperation. He carefully lowers his throbbing ass onto the edge of the bed, facing Connor, who has already slid his pants down over his hips, stroking himself slowly.

Watching Connor's hand move rhythmically from tip to base, Markus shifts and trails his hands along firm, twitching thighs.

Connor's voice snaps out without warning.

"You must really want to drag this out," he says, and Markus instantly freezes, his back stiffening ramrod straight. Connor's hand doesn't falter once, his hips moving languidly along to his set pace. "Hands away from what's mine, love. Put 'em back on the bed for me."

Clenching and unclenching his jaw, Markus eventually summons the strength to pull away from where he wants to touch most. He balls his hands into fists, but sets them on the bed nevertheless, fully surrendering himself over to Connor's whim.

Connor keeps his heavy-lidded gaze trained directly on him, and Markus wonders how it's even possible to feel so small from one person's presence alone.

Not once breaking eye contact, Connor eases his pants down the rest of the way, kicking that and his socks off to the side. He starts to unbutton his shirt, and Markus realizes then and there what exactly his punishment is. Because with each new piece of clothing removed, with each new sliver of skin exposed, Markus has never been met with such a dire urge to touch.

At this point, it doesn't matter how he would touch him either. His hands, his mouth, his tongue... Markus wants to use it all on his body, but he remains locked in place, bound to his spot merely by Connor's word and his word alone.

As naked and bare as he is, Connor's gaze still manages to sear into him, manages to hold a weight for one fit to command, and Markus wants him to brand his skin with the heat of it. Markus wants him to wreck him, mark him up as his own.

But then Connor is back to stroking himself, naked and alone in that chair, and Markus releases a strangled, garbled noise from the back of his throat. Some wild thing stuck between a whine and a groan.

Connor raises an eyebrow, completely unfazed, and it's not fair how controlled he is, even when he's fucking leisurely into his hand, as if he has all the time in the world.

"RA9, look at you," Connor purrs, giving Markus a long, thorough once-over. He synchs with him and transfers everything he's experiencing as it happens. Every single touch and sensation, all of it shared between the two.

As if Markus wasn't driven insane by his own need already. Now he has to add Connor's on top of it, but he refuses to budge, not until Connor says so.

Connor smirks smugly at him, releasing himself long enough to rise from the chair. He teases Markus with the view, stretching his arms high to the ceiling before he approaches. He stops by long enough to splay his hand out over the center of Markus' chest, where his heart speeds up beneath the touch, as if it's physically trying to jump out of his chest and into Connor's hand.

With a forceful shove, Connor sends Markus falling back onto the bed with a soft grunt.

Connor walks past to get some lube from their bedside drawer, and instantly tells Markus to lay back down when he tries to peak.

Markus flops back onto the bed with a petulant huff but does as he's told, glancing up at Connor when he feels the bed dip underneath his weight.

That's when Connor hungrily claims his mouth, parting his lips with his own, his tongue delving deeper.

When he pulls back, Markus chases after his lips, only to be shoved back to the bed.

Connor pops open the bottle then and spreads some lube on his fingers, reaching behind him as he starts to trace his rim at Markus' side.

From his position, Markus can't see a thing besides the rhythmic motion of Connor slowly working a finger inside himself, pumping it in and out experimentally.

He moans quietly, and all of his waves of pleasure transfer over to Markus, causing the fog that's clouding his mind to thicken impossibly more. Markus feels as if he's floating, yet he can't stop the slight jerk of his hips or how his cock weeps and twitches uselessly against his stomach.

"I should make you sit there and watch while I finger myself," Connor whispers, and Markus wonders how in the world he does it when his mind can barely form a coherent thought at the moment, let alone actual words. "Hmm... wouldn't that be nice? You watching me finish myself off while you get nothing." Connor's breath hitches in the slightest, and Markus bites back a whimper. "It would only be fair, right?"

Markus watches his face intently, cataloging every single shift in his expression while Markus' fingers tangle in the sheet.

The shame builds back into place, his last systems diagnostic flashing shamefully through his mind.

"Yes," he whispers, knowing that he would let Connor use him however he liked in that moment. Knowing that it would only be fair.

If the situations were reversed, after all...

Well, Markus doesn't blame him for reacting like this.

Connor works another finger inside, his next words carrying a warning.

"'Yes,' what?"

Markus heats up at the cold rebuke.

"Yes, sir," he answers, the filthy sounds of Connor working his slick fingers inside himself being the first response he receives.

"Good boy," Connor says, working himself open only to what's necessary before he straddles Markus' hips.

He pats his cheek affectionately, not quite a slap, but bordering on the edge of one. A warning.

"Hands up," Connor states, watching as Markus hooks his wrists together above his head, burying them deep into the mattress.   Connor braces one hand against Markus' chest and uses the other to guide Markus' tip towards his entrance, teasing at his hole. Markus arches his back with a gasp, so Connor stops, raising an eyebrow at him skeptically.

"Want to try that again?" Connor taunts, and Markus shakes his head. Connor chuckles but continues to roll his hips. The tip just barely slides past that tight ring of muscle when Connor halts his movements. "By all means, I'm willing to stop here if you prefer."

His answer rings clear through their connection.

_Don't. Please._

The words drip like pure sin from Connor's lips.

"If you're going to beg, love, then I need to hear you."

He eases further down on Markus' dick as he says so, and Markus feels his thighs burning, _aching_ with need. He wants nothing more than to pound into that tight heat, but that's not his place to do so.

Not tonight, at least.

"Please," Markus rasps. " _Please_..."

But Connor doesn't continue as expected. He stops right there, and Markus snarls in frustration, the bands of his throat stretching tight as he tosses his head back, fighting the ever-present urge to move, to fuck roughly into Connor's tight hole.

Connor presses his hands low against Markus' abdomen, and the muscles startle beneath his touch.

"Close your eyes," Connor orders hoarsely. Markus glances at him briefly in confusion, only to have him stare challengingly back. He inches down a bit more, and Markus groans, his hips giving a small, uneven thrust. "You're testing my patience, Markus." He works his way down until he bottoms out, then rolls his hips oh so slowly, savoring that delicious stretch. Markus sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, but Connor isn't having it, holding himself as still as stone. "I'm waiting..."

Sucking in a deep breath, Markus tries to ease it out to no avail. His eyes slide shut and darkness cuts off his vision. For a brief second, he feels a stabbing pang of anxiety shoot through his chest.

As observant as ever, Connor leans forward to press his lips against Markus' eyelids, lingering over his right eye as he works his hips over his throbbing length.

With a muted grunt, he slams his hips back down, and Markus' entire world is focused on nothing except the pleasure that boils ruthlessly under his skin. Every sense is heightened, and Connor's touch is intoxicating, invigorating, always leaving Markus wanting more, more, more...

Connor kisses his way over Markus' cheeks, brushing his lips over his smattering of freckles before he moves even lower. He roughly claims Markus' mouth as his own, sucking and nipping at his plump, lower lip. And when Connor parts his lips again, exploring his mouth with his tongue, Markus moans into the kiss, their breaths synching as one.

Between that and the hypnotic smack of skin against skin, Markus allows himself to sink deeper and deeper into his airy thoughts.

Eventually, though, Connor pulls away, planting one last kiss on Markus' lips when he whimpers desperately.

"Mmm..." Connor sighs as he rides Markus, taking it slow and steady. "Look at you." He hums as he adjusts his angle, releasing a heavy pant. "Fuck."

"C-Con," Markus gasps, choking on his words when Connor lifts his hips up higher, Markus' tip barely clinging on to the edge of his rim. "Please..."

Connor tries again, ignoring Markus' pleas completely. "So obedient."

He allows gravity to help out a bit, slamming back down to the base in one go, causing Markus to cry out with a fevered jolt of his hips. Connor gives him a smug pinch to the side, kneading his hands up along the expanse of Markus' chest.

When he finally reaches his pecs, he cups them possessively, giving them a fond squeeze before he takes fine brown nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He rolls the sensitive buds and watches Markus give a full body shudder alongside the growing intensity.

His reaction only fans the flames already building in Connor's systems.

His cock gives a stubborn, longing twitch, demanding attention. Connor continues to roll his hips, refusing to give in.

"You know..." Connor hisses through clenched teeth, feeling a warm, fuzzy pressure starting to gain momentum. "Most people need ropes or blindfolds for this kind of thing, but not you." Connor chuckles, low and husky and sinister. "Oh no, I tell you what to do, and you listen. You _obey_."

Connor temporarily stops his assault on Markus' poor, abused nipples, long enough to drag his nails down his chest. Markus breathes his name again, blissful and reverent, and Connor finds himself having trouble breathing, feeding Markus more of what he's feeling through their continuous feedback loop.

"And ra9 you obey so beautifully," he murmurs, shaking his head in bewilderment, despite Markus' current lack of sight.

Luckily for Connor —not so much for Markus— he ensures that his lover feels more than his fair share of disappointment leaking through their bond.

"Which is why I can't understand..." Connor takes a second to whimper through the next slam of his hips. "W-Which is why I c-can't understand why you disobey me on _this_ , of all things."

Markus flinches, turning his head to the side in shame, only for Connor to take a firm hold of his jaw, snatching his head back into place.

Melting into his touch, Markus surrenders fully when their mouths crash together, both of Connor's hands sliding carefully down his chest...

Only to come to a full stop over his regulator.

Connor's skin retracts around both of his hands, his palms glowing a bright blue as Markus' skin wavers around the area, exposing the slick, plastic surface underneath.

While Connor traces around the regulator’s smooth, circular edge, he whispers softly to Markus, giving him gentle commands here and there. Slowly, Markus starts to move his hips along with Connor's, thrusting inside him, adjusting his pace when Connor corrects him.

Connor's nail catches along the regulator, and Markus' breath hitches in his chest.

Even though he expected this to happen, even though Connor warned him while he was coherent, before all of this even began, Markus is still unable to keep himself in check. His hips stutter, thrusting way too hard, too fast, and his pump nearly goes haywire from the stimulation.

Before Connor can even get a grip on the thing, he checks in again, tapping pointedly where Markus' hands remain stretched over his head.

Three taps are returned, and Connor smiles as he gives Markus one final, lingering kiss.

He moans when Markus' thrust hits hard and deep, whispering for him to open his eyes. To watch.

Unlike the last time, the order is followed as soon as it is given, and as soon as Markus blinks the bleariness away, his eyes hone in on Connor.

And Connor doesn't once look away as he twists the biocomponent in place.

It unlocks with a resounding _snap._

"Do you trust me?" he wonders, and Markus responds simply by arching his back, leaning further into Connor's touch.

"With my life," he declares, and he's so confident and proud when he says it that for a moment Connor forgets about everything around them.

Hard to believe that at one point, Connor was holding him at gunpoint when they first met. That this was the same person that tipped him over to the point of deviancy.

And look at them now.

Apparently Markus is still as attracted to the thrill of danger as he was back then, but the thought only brings a warm smile to Connor's lips.

He tugs the pump out slightly, its blue light faltering as it separates from its host. Markus releases a shaky breath. His eyes slip closed, and he opens himself up to Connor.

When Connor senses where his thoughts are headed, he instantly snaps him back to the present.

"Deep breaths, love," Connor whispers, snapping his hips down roughly. Markus gives a strained grunt, his nails clawing into the sheets, ready to tear them to shreds. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

Markus frantically nods his head as Connor slides the pump free, letting his voice guide him away from the ghosts of his past, away from that wretched day when he broke free from the current of bodies flooding through the junkyard.

Memories threaten to overwhelm him, but Connor keeps on talking, dragging him back to the present slowly but surely.

When Connor's rhythm picks up unexpectedly, Markus whimpers in the back of his throat, a warning popping up on display, demanding that he replace his thirium pump regulator.

Ignoring it, he swallows past the taste of thirium on the back of his tongue, fucking desperately into Connor as he pants and wheezes for breaths, unable to say anything at all.

Dark blue thirium stains pale skin, but Connor possessively tucks the regulator against the cylindrical component in his own chest, ignoring the mess. With his other hand, his fingers sneak forward and dip curiously into the crevice where the biocomponent once resided.

The shock that shoots down Markus' spine causes his hips to shoot off of the bed, so he braces his feet as he fucks deeper, harder, faster into Connor, whose rough, breathy pants whine out more encouragements for him. Their bodies jostle with the force of it, and it's a wonder how Connor is still managing to cling to that regulator, even as he loses himself in the heat of the moment.

Markus can practically hear the time ticking down with each slick slide into Connor's body. He can feel his own body fast approaching exhaustion, and part of him is ashamed to say that he could care less about Connor's authority at the moment, chasing his release with wild abandon.

Connor laughs lightly, picking up on his thoughts as his fingers work in and out of his chest.

"Y-yes," Connor moans, his rhythm becoming just as sloppy as Markus'. "That's it, love. T-That's it."

_Give me everything you got._

And damn it all to hell if Markus doesn't do just that. He can only just manage to ask for permission through their connection before Connor says yes.

That's all he needs before his hands break free of their invisible bonds, his hands settling firmly on Connor's hips. Within the blink of an eye, Markus flips them over, and Connor's fingers slip free, soaked in his lover's thirium.

More leaks sluggishly from the hole in Markus' chest. He settles between warm thighs, painting Connor's body in a messy, stark blue.

Keeping his other hand cupped protectively around Markus' regulator, Connor trails his free hand through the pool of blue, leaving behind some smudges on his skin as he reaches for his strained erection.

Grunting through the pain, mindful of the warnings flashing in the background, Markus nearly bends Connor in half as he forces himself to focus through his foggy thoughts. Connor wraps his legs eagerly around his waist, his heels digging roughly into his lower back.

And Markus loves every second of it.

Leaning in to kiss Connor, they moan into each other's mouths as Markus picks up a brutal, punishing pace, the headboard banging noisily against the wall with each thrust of Markus' hips.

Markus buries his hand deep into Connor's hair while he babbles senselessly to him, his hips faltering as he feels his body nearing the simultaneous edge of shutdown and release, his body stretched to two different extremes at once.

Before he can step over one edge or the other, however, Connor slams the regulator back into place, twisting it viciously until it locks with a click.

Then it's like a rush of all of his systems coming to life at once. His audio processor rings loudly from the stress, and his bad eye twitches slightly from the abrupt change. He stutters through fucking Connor into the mattress, but he just has to...

"Please," Markus rasps, ramming recklessly into him. "Baby, please, c-can I...?"

Connor pulls him close by the nape of his neck with a content hum, stroking himself slick with Markus' thirium, timing it perfectly with each and every thrust.

He whispers against Markus' lips.

"Come for me."

And that's all it takes before Markus is releasing inside of him, thick and hot, kissing gratefully along Connor's throat as he continues to pound into his blessed heat.

Between that and Connor's thirium-soaked hand, it isn't long before he's following behind Markus, painting their chests with cum.

Markus sighs breathlessly as they ride out their respective orgasms together, sharing soft kisses and soothing words.

Up until his exhaustion finally catches up with him.

He can't even tell when his arms start to tremble or when the cloud in his mind starts to dissipate. He simply collapses onto Connor's chest with a wheezing huff, smiling sheepishly when he raises an eyebrow at him.

Connor lazily flips them back over, grimacing as Markus' softening length slips free.

Markus gives a pained whimper at the loss, feeling his anxiety spike when he feels Connor's weight leaving the bed.

"Where-?"

And Connor is right by his side again, cutting him off with a brief, reassuring kiss.

Markus clutches at him desperately, feeling as if he's plummeting to hell in comparison to that floating sensation from before.

He whines when Connor tries to move again, slurring out a pitiful "don't leave me." Connor does his best to reassure him, to explain to his traitorous mind that he'll be back shortly. That Markus needs to put some thirium into his system _now_.

It still doesn't hurt any less when Connor has to leave the room, and the long, aching pain pounding in his chest leaves Markus quaking. Hot, irrational tears spill from the corners of his eyes, so he buries the heels of his hands into them, black dots coloring his vision.

He admits, he has had some lows like this before after some sessions but never quite this... intense.

But Connor keeps his promise just as he said, returning as quickly as he left.

However, Markus can't even get a word in before he's there, bending down to scoop him out of the bed and into his arms. Markus scrambles to regain his bearings, tossing his arms around Connor's neck while he glowers. Connor winks at him, kissing him soundly on the mouth.

"Could've given me some type of warning," Markus grumbles without any real heat, pulling Connor back in as he carries him into their bathroom.

Connor doesn't respond just yet, setting him down on the bathroom counter, next to where he has gathered several bottles of thirium and a pile of clean towels.

He picks up one of the bottles and holds it out to Markus questioningly, asking, not telling.

With a tired sigh, Markus takes it and quietly thanks him, sipping slowly before he starts to work himself up to drinking more fully. Connor watches him attentively, his eyelids drooping, and he eventually goes to start the shower when Markus starts in on his second bottle.

It takes only a few seconds before steam is billowing into the bathroom, its wisps curling playfully in the air. After fiddling with temperature some more, Connor eventually steps into the shower, well aware of Markus' eyes watching his every move.

Once Markus finishes up his second bottle, he jumps down from his perch, grimacing when he feels extra full and sloshy.

He makes his way into the shower, plastering himself against Connor's back as he presses a kiss to a few stray moles on his shoulder and neck. Connor soaks in the attention before turning in Markus’ grasp. Their lips meet halfway, soft and slow and leisurely.

Connor catches the last stray drops of thirium that linger on Markus' lips, and their hands find each other, as if drawn together like magnets, fated to be together. The skin of their hands recede, and their palms begin to glow as they interface with one another.

It's nice, beautiful even. Just the two of them, together in this moment, connected in a way where all of their walls are torn down, past and present. It's intimate and vulnerable, and Markus couldn't imagine being this way with anyone else.

He couldn't ever imagine trusting someone as much as he trusts Connor.

The words remain unsaid, but they're there, suspended in the air between them.

 _I love you._ And the expected, _I love you too._

Their shower finishes up in such a manner, where they exchange gentle touches and sweet nothings, sometimes bickering and sometimes laughing and teasing.

Eventually, they make it back to the bedroom, where they change the sheets together before climbing into bed to watch a movie. Markus stretches out lazily on Connor's chest, their naked bodies no more than a tangle of limbs.

Then finally, _finally,_ Markus slips into rest mode before the movie even starts, his systems processing live feedback as he charges for the night.

Connor smiles affectionately at him, dropping a lone kiss on his forehead before returning his attention to the screen.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> And feel free to comment. I'd love to hear what people think. <3


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